


Cult of Personality

by Dance_Elle_Dance



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 02:28:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4902043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dance_Elle_Dance/pseuds/Dance_Elle_Dance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's not like his nature-loving father, not like his loopy mother. No, not at all. He's just sarcastic, affronting, divine Lorcan Scamander, and she believes she's in love. (Originally posted on 8/21/11.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cult of Personality

**Author's Note:**

> Re-post of my first LorcanLucy! Please enjoy!

She watches him sometimes.

Okay, not just sometimes. _Always._

Lucy finds herself watching Lorcan Scamander with the fascination of someone deeply possessed with the need to watch something beautiful. She can't imagine why, though. It is something that she can't explain, but also something she finds that needs no explanation. The whole theory of explaining why she wants to stare at the bewildering boy seems to be a complete moot point with her.

There's just something about him that causes her chest to feel all light and heavy at the same time. Something that calls out to her, when all the rest of the boys are just irrelevant.

And she's not sure why.

He's a Slytherin, the first of the Scamanders to be so, while his brother was Sorted into Ravenclaw. That doesn't stop the two of them from hanging out, however. They are almost always together, joking around and having fun and in general just being lighthearted.

The similarities stop there, however.

Lorcan, when compared to his brother, always has his hair kept in this strange mass of unkempt dirty blonde waves which is long and almost always pulled back in a low tail. Starkly different is his brother, who always styles his hair to look carefully windblown and has a smile on his face and is brilliant at Quidditch.

Lorcan is…just _very_ interesting to her.

She finds it strange that she can be so attracted to someone. It's almost like she can't even look at anyone else as long as she has this thing for the Scamander boy. It's pathetic and petty, she knows, but she can't help but feel something, anything, _everything_ for him.

He's not like his nature-loving father, not like his loopy mother. No, not at all. He's just sarcastic, affronting, divine Lorcan Scamander, and she believes she's in love.

She also believes she's a fool.

Lucy has heard the stories - about how he lets no one in. About how he practically broke Harriet Nott's heart in one foul swoop. He's not cruel at all, no. She just figures he's very protective over what is most important. But then again, that could be her innocence showing, seeing the good in everyone even when someone doesn't want them to see…

Despite herself, she's enraptured with him.

She can't figure why he's so cynical - what had happened to him to make him so snide and secretive and scared of letting anyone close. The only person she's seen with him that he's treated as an equal is his brother. He loves his mother and his father, but that is something that is to be expected.

Sure, he has friends. He's friends - but not close friends - with Scorpius Malfoy and Albus Potter. He's got to have some friends in his house, she supposes. But even with them, he always seems to have his guard up. The guarded, yet constantly amused look in his eyes is something that is uniquely him. It isn't the arrogance of Scorpius, or the innocence of Albus, but something completely different. Something completely _him._

It's very strange, to see Lysander and Lorcan together, acting as brothers. Lysander is Ravenclaw, all the way. Smart and resourceful, but also brave and chivalrous. She believes he should have been in Gryffindor. Lysander is the more lighthearted, the kinder of the two. At least openly.

Lucy then recalls a moment in which she witnessed Lorcan helping up a poor first year who had fallen on the way to lunch. No one else was around and Lorcan seemed to be quite embarrassed about it afterward, quickly moving into to large room to eat as if he was being videotaped by some camera-show.

Lorcan is kind, she knows.

However, Lorcan is also sarcasm and jokes and burningburningburning. He burns brighter than anything she's ever seen, brighter than the brightest of fireworks, of stars, of anything else to that dreadful cliché. But she thinks it fits him. Though cold on the outside, something just oozes out of him, scorching everything and everyone in its path - or at least that's the effect it has on Lucy.

So when he finally notices her, she's stunned.

It's after class - double Potions with the Slytherin - and he speaks to her.

"Luce."

It's just an acknowledgement of her presence accompanied by a short nod and a flash of those lovely gray eyes. She has barely formulated a reply when he turns the corner, leaving her alone as if he weren't even there in the first place.

"Wow, Lucy," Rose says, blinking rapidly, "Lorcan hardly ever talks to anyone…let alone Gryffindor students…"

And even as she says it, Lucy can hear the gears turning in Rose's brilliant brain. Hopefully she doesn't read too much into it. There's only so much jibbing one can take, after all, and with her cousins, there's so much of that already.

She excuses herself to go to the bathroom, only to find that her cheeks have flushed a brilliant red, her eyes are wide and excited-looking. If anyone could never hide their emotions, it was Lucy Weasley.

Lucy splashes some water onto her face and watches as some of it strays into the ginger strands of her hair.

Lorcan Scamander had just acknowledged her existence.

A giddy smile creeps onto her face, her heart thrums like a hummingbird in her chest, blood flows hot and fast through her, and if it were even possible, her face turns an even deeper scarlet, like she's been running a marathon.

Trying to keep her head, she gives a futile little cough and flees from the bathroom.

She's feeling stupidly happy, like someone had given her something infinitely precious for no reason at all.

Lucy slips into the Gryffindor common room with a wide grin and flustered appearance and by the looks of it, everyone is ignoring her. Good.

She feels like she can't be still, so she leaves up the staircase to go to her room. It's empty, so that's good, and she screams into her pillow like a little fool until she bursts into giggles. Funny, she didn't realize she was such a , _girl._

Feeling like she has a reputation to uphold, she straightens her face into a cool mask, ignoring the still-burning feeling that is in the pit of her stomach and emanating to her cheeks, and walks back down the stairs. Suddenly, she feels like she needs fresh air, so she makes her way outside. Curfew hadn't yet set in, so she calmly walks to the edge of the lake and sits down, sighing and loving the cool breeze on her cheeks.

She curls up at the edge, her knees to her chest and her arms draped around them, and just watches as the wind disturbs the water in front of her, creating ripples and patterns that would be impossible to replicate.

And she hears it again - his voice.

"Hey."

It's a quiet, almost uncertain cadence, and that is something indeed coming from the brilliant and untouchable Lorcan Scamander.

She jolts, spins around, and he is staring at her with unfathomable eyes. "Oh, uh, hey."

"Eloquent, as always, Weasley," the snide comment comes from his lips without the slightest hesitation. Out of habit, it seems. She just beams at him, unfazed.

"I try."

His smirk spreads like butter over his mouth, and he leans against a nearby tree, crossing his ankles at the base and shoving his arms into the pocket of his robes. "Well, if that's you trying, then I feel awfully sorry for you."

"Did you come out here to harass me? You've barely even paid attention to me before, you know."

"Seems like you're the one who doesn't know."

Lucy turns again, spins, and damns her cheeks for coloring even more than they had been before. Lucy, the human tomato. She wonders if anyone else in her family blushes this much. Surely not rational Rose, or lovely Lily, or magnificent Molly. Lame Lucy is the only one that looks like a sunburned tomato when the guy she has feelings for talks to her.

"And what do you mean by that?"

"I pay attention."

"Liar."

"Me? Lie? _Never_."

"Need I remind you that you're Slytherin?"

"I see that your family has beaten the whole anti-Slytherin thing into your head as well. We're _cunning_ , not outright liars, my dear."

"I could care less if you're Slytherin." She ignores the way that her mind screams, _'My dear,' he called you 'my dear'!_

Lorcan stares at her, his eyes amused and twinkling with something that she has a hard time placing, "You don't now, do you?"

Lucy shakes her head.

"Well, I believe you should know that I'm not concerned with what House you're in, either."

"I…am not sure what you mean."

"Stupid," he says, but it isn't an insult surprisingly. The way his tone carries the word makes it sound like an endearment. "I mean that I don't care if you're a pig-headed Gryffindor, I've been watching you."

"And he has a stalking problem as well!" Lucy chides, grinning as brightly as she burns while she looks at him. "Lorcan Scamander, you surprise me."

"You've been watching me, too, Lucy Weasley. I've noticed."

That cuts Lucy off at the source. "Er…well, I…uh…"

Lorcan pushes himself from the tree and approaches her. With every footstep, her heart rate increases, she feels.

"So I figured I'd be the first to break the silence."

"…why?"

Lorcan looks at her for a moment before sitting down. His eyes are guarded as always, but there is a certain sense of softness to them now that causes her heart to leap into her throat. "You… _interest_ me."

Her fingers twist in the grass, digging into the dirt.

"So, I figure, if nothing else…we could be friends."

"F-Friends?"

"You know, acquaintances who hang out together," Lorcan relates to her. She can almost taste the sarcasm as it flows effortlessly from his tongue.

"Right. Friends."

"You need to work on being more loquacious."

"I could give you a list of the things you could work on, but we'd be here all night."

Then Lorcan does something that causes butterflies to swim in her stomach - he _laughs_. She doesn't think she's ever heard him laugh before. And if that was what his laugh sounded like, there needs to be more of it in the world.

And _she_ had caused it.

"There you go," he says as soon as his chuckles subside. "Keep talking."

She blushes, but starts to blabber on about stupid things. She's no where nearly as capable with words as he is, but he doesn't seem to mind. Strangely enough, he watches her and seems to be listening to every word - stuttered or likewise - that comes from her mouth.

And, when her words die out, he grins, "I think this is going to work out."

She isn't sure what he's talking about at the time, but she grins and can't think of anything more perfect than him and the fact that he doesn't seem so snide up close…

So when, weeks later at the same exact spot, he kisses her for the first time, she finally gets what he means.

_"I think this is going to work out."_

_Me too._


End file.
